


Nagronoir

by SubtextEquals



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Noir, Crossdressing, F/M, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-10 00:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5561962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SubtextEquals/pseuds/SubtextEquals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a detective, Nasir has seen a lot of the city's seamy side. But when Agron comes to him about his missing brother, Duro, Nasir has to deal with a different kind of seam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nagronoir

The N to my name had fallen off the door mere months after its placement, leaving behind only “asir.” Regardless of that, the stream of cases were slow but steady. They were all petty things-- a missing husband, a cheating husband, and the same only with the wife as the guilty party. Nothing interesting crossed my desk.

Until him. From the moment he walked in the room, I knew he was trouble. I only had one question... Why was he wearing a dress?

The aforementioned dress was sleek, black, and hid next to nothing. The muscles in his abs and his pecs were unparalleled-- save for his thighs. I could stare at that specimen of a man forever, even if dark circles ringed his eyes.

“You don’t have a secretary?” His voice sounded as ragged as his growing beard.

“I don’t need someone to answer my phone if you’re here. Which is why?”

“That’s a--” The man kicked off one of the high heels he was wearing. “That’s a long story.”

“I can imagine.” I watched as the other shoe came off. “What’s your name?”

“Agron. My brother is Duro.”

“He’s gone missing.”

Agron nodded. “Our friends threw a party last night. I lost track of Duro after my fifth shot. I don’t remember much after that other than my friend taking out a dress and--”

I held up my hand. That answered any questions I had about what sort of party this was, as well as how drunk not only Agron but probably Duro himself had been at the time. “Did anyone see him leave?”

“No. I called everyone I know. But Gannicus brought his fucking friends.”

I groaned. _Gannicus._ If I were paid every time I heard that name from someone in a predicament… Well, I’d still be in this cheap office but I could afford better furniture after fixing that fallen N.

Agron didn’t bat an eye. “I told him to call them. He’s still hung over. Fuck, I am too. But he gave me your name and I came straight here.”

I wasn’t sure how straight his actions could be while wearing a dress but I rolled with it. And refrained from making any comment on the garment so far.

“You’re used to walking around like that?”

Alright. So far didn’t last long.

Agron’s heavy eyes narrowed and his lips formed the most pronounced scowl I’d seen in some time. With his build, bearing, and open expression of contempt, he’d make a wonderful bouncer or, in this case, detective’s assistant.

“Sorry,” I said preemptively. “We’ll work this out. But first we need to cover my fee."

At that Agron deflated. But not those muscles. Not that I was looking at his muscles.

Still, he didn’t avert his eyes. "I lost everything while I was wasted but I have this." He held up would could only be described as a dick necklace.

I had to hand it to him, he had balls to come here and try that.

Biting back a sigh, I held out my hand. "I'll take it."

 

An hour later, I questioned my decision. A phone call to Gannicus led to me speaking first with Saxa (another name I was overly familiar with), then Belesa (a new addition), neither of whom knew more about it, then finally to the man himself. Through his ramblings I pieced together a better timeline.

Agron didn’t stand idle. Literally. He paced the room. While irritating, I found him more distracting. That dress showed off those fine legs I’d observed earlier. While the dick necklace lay still on the table, I had greater trouble keeping myself equally unmoved.

Finally having wrung my sources dry, I had enough. Setting the phone down, I gathered my considerable nerves to confront him.

“Are you sure he’s in danger?” I asked.

Confront. Sure. Fucking hell, what was it about this man?

Agron threw his hands up, which resulted in a seam in his dress tearing. One he paid no mind. “He’s always getting into trouble. Like Gannicus told you, he got into a fistfight at the party.”

“He didn’t leave with anyone?”

Agron snorted. “He’s hopeless with women.”

“And men?” I didn’t glance at the ever increasing tear in his dress or the skin it revealed.

Agron stopped to meet my eyes. “No, that’s me.”

“Hopeless?”

“No, I meant--” Agron grunted and rubbed his head. “Can we find him already? We’re not getting anything done here.”

An unhappy client was one who wouldn’t pay well in the future or recommend you. Granted, there wouldn’t be much of the former. But a damaged reputation could be worse.

Also I liked the dick necklace.

I stood and grabbed my coat. “You’ll want to change first.”

“I’m not changing until I find my brother.”

“Your dress is falling apart.”

“Who cares?”

Handsome, muscular, kind of an asshole, a bad flirt, and devoted. No wonder I was hooked.

“Show me where the party was.”

 

Several men whistled at Agron as we walked down the street. I turned to glare but Agron flipped them off first. Each step after that won me over further. I had a nice view of the way his shoulders hunched, how his hands clenched, and when I came up alongside him I saw his jaw was set. And with the way he ground them together, I feared for those teeth of his.

“You’re sure Duro has no more vices?”

“Fighting, drinking, and bad taste in women. Runs in the family.” Agron’s eyes focused dead ahead of him.

“I wouldn’t have guessed from the dress.”

Agron didn’t stop walking but he turned to me. “What? I-- oh. No, bad taste in men for me…” He swallowed and his eyes darted down my body before looking forward again. “I’ll be sure the next one is an exception.”

“Give me another dick necklace and I’ll consider finding you one.”

“I could give you a better d-”

We turned the corner and that was when he cut himself off and bolted for the home as well as he could manage in high heels.

“Hey!”

Agron pointed ahead. “It’s there-- it.”

Still trying to catch up, I yelled, “HEY!”

He finally got the message and slowed. “Not my fault you’re too little--”

“Your seam ripped down to your hip,” I informed him before moving past him and straight for the house.

Spartacus, that was who owned it. Assuming I could trust the word of a hungover man wearing a dress who paid in questionable jewelry. Which I did.

While Agron frantically tried to salvage the remains of his dignity, I gave the place a once over. No discarded bottles or trash. A few dried flecks of vomit remained. But nothing indicated any struggle.

Agron still hadn’t caught up by the time the door opened at my knock. I knew Spartacus by sight. In my dealings with Gannicus. He’d been the level headed one who could, along with Oenomaus, point me in the right direction.

As usual, Spartacus got straight to the point. “Sorry, Nasir. I can’t give you any more information.”

“Can I look around?”

Spartacus glanced over his shoulder. “Now is not a good--”

I wasn’t tall enough to see over Spartacus’s shoulder. But it didn’t take a genius to know why he’d denied my entrance.

My suspicions were confirmed once a woman stepped up and behind Spartacus. “I’m Sura.” Thin, dark haired, beautiful, and with an ethereal look to her, Sura wrapped a shawl around her shoulder before speaking again. “Agron will want you to go downtown. His brother won’t be there, but you should humor him.”

Both Spartacus and I gave her a quizzical look. Agron arrived on the scene before that faded.

“What? Is he hurt?”

“Duro’s fine,” Spartacus answered. “Don’t worry--”

“Fuck that! He should be home.” Agron turned to me. I noted that his lengthy efforts to keep his dress together had ended in simply holding it with his hand. “But I think I know where he is. Let’s--”

A shawl hit him in the face. Swearing was the only thanks Sura received in return as Agron pulled the offending item down.

“Take back your fucking--”

“Agron,” Spartacus spoke firmly. “Step inside and change.”

“I have to find Duro.”

Spartacus didn’t back down. “Or a therapist?”

Agron grabbed my arm. “We’re going downtown.”

He let go of me almost straight away but he’d also recovered quickly, ripped dress and all. He’d figured out those high heels. With those long legs of his, I was behind him again. And with a good view of his ass.

 

Attempting to calm Agron proved fruitless. Instead I indulged him while he stormed around the seediest parts of the city in nothing but a dress and a shawl. Regardless of the comments or looks we received as we passed, Agron remained undeterred. If he even noticed. Embarrassed was a word that I couldn’t associate with Agron, given how shamelessly he approached this situation.

In the end, he burned off his energy and slumped onto a bench not fit to be used as such.

“That stupid shit is in trouble and I can’t find him.” For the first time the anger in his voice melted into concern and the worry that only a big brother could have.

Or so I imagined. If it was something I’d known, I’d long since forgotten.

Tentatively, I stretched out my hand but stopped short of placing it on his shoulder. “He’ll be alright. If you’re concerned, we can check the hospital again.” 

Agron looked up. Just as I was about to bite the proverbial bullet and touch him, I heard an ever familiar ringtone.

“Sorry.” I grabbed my cell phone. “Chadara, I’m in the middle of--”

“I need help jumpstarting a car.”

I rubbed my forehead and fought back a sigh. Sighs would not be allowed in Agron’s presence. Nor were sighs allowed in general unless I was alone in my office and dreaming of wine I could not afford. “I’m sorry, Chadara. I c--”

“Nasir, please. I was already hungover from this party last night and…” At this her voice dropped to a whisper. “This guy I brought back is really hot but he’s freaking out over his car. Please, Nasir.”

“Why do you always--” I stopped as everything clicked. “You were at a party?”

“Since when is that a problem?”

“It’s not.” I readied myself. “What’s the guy’s name?”

Evidently, Agron had good hearing as there was no need to relay the answer. And if Duro were anywhere in the same room as Chadara, he wouldn’t need anyone telling him Agron’s response.

“THAT FUCKING SHIT!”

 

Neither of us had enough money for a cab, so our long walk around the city continued. It’d only taken thirty minutes for Agron’s colorful swearing to reach a relatively mild level.

“I can’t believe that asshole,” Agron grumbled. “I’m sorry I dragged you along all day to chase after that stupid fuck.”

Albeit a temporarily mild level.

“I don’t mind the company,” I said.

Agron snorted. “Yeah. All in exchange for a joke necklace. I can’t believe I gave you that.”

“You had a terrible hangover. Besides, I like it.” I shot a sly look at Agron, emboldened now that the frenetic energy from before had cooled. “But if you want to keep it, it will go well with that plunging neckline.” 

Agron laughed at that. “I’ll get a matching set for us. We can make Duro pay for it. Then he can pay for your services.”

I cleared my throat.

But he kept going. “It’ll be worth-- oh. Fuck. That came out wrong.”

“Not entirely.” Was I blushing? Shit, I hoped I wasn’t blushing.

Agron smiled at me, considerably more relaxed than moments before. “I can pay for your services.”

No more blushing. Blushing was not for detectives interacting with now former clients. Now former clients who I could look in the face and, without regret, tell…

“You don’t have to pay for that.”

“NASIR!”

Leave it to Chadara to preempt Agron’s response. I hadn’t realized we were so close, but Duro must have overstayed his welcome given the urgency with which Chadara waved at us. Then, on closer look, she laughed.

Agron’s good mood spoiled, he stormed past both Chadara and I, all the way to his brother. Duro resembled him but he was darker and flashing his scowling brother a shit-eating grin. That only made things worse, judging by the lecture that followed.

“I can see why he’s not happy,” Chadara commented on Agron. “I can also see his--”

“Why didn’t Duro call his brother first?” I asked quickly.

“His phone died and he couldn’t remember the number.”

The brothers’ fight escalated to incoherent yelling.

I nodded. My gaze shifted from the fight to the broken down car, which I believed had found its end at last. “I am not getting paid for this one.”

“Are you getting laid?”

By this point I had either become immune to blushing or it was such a constant state of being for the day that it was my new normal. Either way, it didn’t affect my response. “No.”

“With those red cheeks?” Chadara laughed. “Yes, you are.”

Abruptly, the yelling stopped, replaced by laughter.

“I’m not,” I insisted.

“Nasir?” Agron called. When I was halfway there, he continued. “Can you help us with this piece of shit?” He gestured to the car and not his brother. “We’ll figure out how to repay you.”

Duro shook his head.

“Or just me,” Agron added.

I nodded. “You can give me a ride.”

Agron returned the grin I only now realized I had.

That grin lasted longer than it should have, considering it took all day to fix the car. After that, we agreed it was only fair for Agron to spend all of the next one with me, doing what I wanted.

Actually, we both wanted it. The marks we left on each other spoke to that. The broken bed did as well. But for me, the real mystery of the case had been thoroughly answered.

Agron looked incredible out of that dress.


End file.
